He had too much good sense
not to perceive that the only chance he had of rising to an
influential position lay in qualifying himself for it, by enlarging
his limited knowledge and improving his mind.
"I have made a good beginning," he thought. "After I have learned
something of French, I will take up Latin, and I think Oscar will be
willing to help me in that too."
The next morning he commenced work in the printing office. With a
few hints from Ferguson, he soon comprehended what he had to do, and
made very rapid progress.
"You're getting on fast, Harry," said Ferguson approvingly.
"I like it," said our hero. "I am glad I decided to be a printer."
"I wish I wasn't one," grumbled Clapp, the younger journeyman.
"Don't you like it?"
"Not much. It's hard work and poor pay. I just wish I was in my
brother's shoes. He is a bookkeeper in Boston, with a salary of
twelve hundred a year, while I am plodding along on fifteen dollars
week."
"You may do better some day," said Ferguson.
"Don't see any chance of it."
"If I were in your place, I would save up part of my salary, and by
and by have an office, and perhaps a paper of my own."
"Why don't you do it, then?" sneered Clapp.
"Because I have a family to support from my earnings--you have only
yourself."
"It doesn't help me any; I can't save anything out of fifteen dollars
a week.
Pages:
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48